


Streetwise

by pixiespirits



Category: Original Work
Genre: Doctor/Patient, F/M, Homeless Family, Homeless Minors, Homelessness, New York City, Street Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 05:14:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2680421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiespirits/pseuds/pixiespirits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Based off Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, Season 9, Episode 11: Streetwise.</p></blockquote>





	Streetwise

                     “Fuck. You.” The words rip from my scratchy throat, completely raw and sore from a night from yelling.

                     

                     At least three nurses were trying to pin me to the hospital bed, but I struggle relentlessly, spitting and cursing the whole time.

 

                     “Calm down!” One of them shouts, red in the face, but I still squirm.

 

                     A sharp pain in my arm suddenly distracts me, and I rip my wrist from my attacker. A tiny red dot  begins to grow, and I look up confused and angry. I see a flash of blue eyes before the world fades black.

 

 

 

                     My drug induced dream is just a replay of the night, an odd out of body experience.

 

                     I’m shuffling through the streets, on my way home. I knew Warren would be waiting for me, to see what I brought home for the Family, but for some reason the walk was taking longer than usual. I turn to cross the street, only a few blocks from home, when a big van screeches to a stop only a few inches from me, honking loudly. Angry and slightly alarmed, I slam my hands down on front, yelling.

 

                     “Watch where you’re going, you ass!”

 

                     Rolling my eyes, I continue on my way, only again to be startled by the loud honking. I turn to the driver, ready to give him a proper shouting, but I’m confused at his expression. His eyes are wide and he’s trying to say something, but his words are muffled from inside his van. My eyebrows furrowed, I look to where his fervently gesturing to.

 

                  _Crushing pressure._

 

                    _My head bleeding, my shoulder hurts._

 

                  _Who’s yelling?_

 

                    _Thinking aches my head, so I try to numb it out, only to be met by blackness._

 

 

                     I wake up.

 

                     The blue eyes are piercing mine, but I struggle to focus on them. Why is everything so blurry?

 

                     “Sorry ‘bout that.” A voice says, soft and deep. _Is that Australian?_

 

                     He gestures to his head, his fingers twirling.

 

                     “It’ll all clear up in a bit.”

 

                     I sit up, ignoring the shock of pain through my shoulder. Blinking, I face him, trying to keep my glare at him steady, but my body still felt pleasantly light and airy.

 

                     “What did you drug me with?” My question comes out a scratchy slur, but I feel I’ve made my point with my expression.

 

                     He coughs guilty, his face becoming clearer by the second.

 

                     “Just a basic sedative. Nothing really.”

 

                     His words are blurry, but not from the drugs. As he fully came into view, I had to repress a gasp. No doctor should be that beautiful.

 

                     “You are really attractive!” The thought fumbles from my mouth the second I think it, and my face flushes a deep red.

 

                     He smiles, clearly flattered and chuckles, checking the IVs and such absentmindedly. I frown at myself, unsure what to say.

 

                     “So.” He begins, veering on me. “I've found multiple stolen items in your backpack.”

 

                     “Why were you looking in my backpack?”

 

Shocked and angry, I swing my legs from the bed, trying to stand up and search for my backpack. His hands gently push me back down, carefully avoiding my bad shoulder, and causing a vicious glare from me.

 

                     “Listen. It’s not really any of my business, and, frankly, I don’t really care.” He plops himself down on a stool next to the hospital bed. “I was just stating a fact.”

 

                     I silently glower at him, waiting for him to continue. He once again awkwardly coughs.

 

                     “How old are you? I need an adult’s signature to release you.”

 

                     My scowl only deepens, and I cross my arms, staring past him. He smirks.

 

                     “I guess we’ll just keep you here.” For some reason his taunting Australian accent pushes my buttons more than normal. “We’ll be great pals, I’m sure.”

 

                     I purse my lips, still avoiding his gaze. Sighing, he turns away from me and walks swiftly from the room, leaving me surprisingly hurt at his sudden absence.

 

                      _Whatever._ I think grudgingly, plucking the IV from my arm, and standing up to stretch. My ratty clothes sit in a heap in the corner, and I tug them on quietly  

 

                      _The quicker I get out of here the better._

 

 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Based off Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, Season 9, Episode 11: Streetwise.


End file.
